Poetry

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The lyrics are coming out of my head,
As I write them from a pencil’s lead,
These are the words that I had sought,
These are the words that I had thought.

My lyric journal as my task,
Revealing my very own mask,
The music coming from the heart,
The music is like abstract art.

Now I am taking the center stage,
Singing from the lyrics on that page,
My fans are now engaged,
I no longer feel trapped in a cage.

I take the microphone off its stand,
Hearing the drummer blend with the guitar,
I’m really feeling like a rock star.

The lights flash in front for me,
Blinding me from the crowd,
I’m singing right on key,
I’m suddenly feeling proud.

The lights beam on my face,
I finally found my place,
The music is wrapped in my embrace,
I’m hoping the audience’s memories won’t erase.

It’s about the song, knowing where I belong,
The words on the page comes out strong,
I have the audience sing along,
With lyrics, there’s no right or wrong.

My concert comes to an end,
My alarm clock rings,
I realize it’s only a dream,
Now I know what I really want-which is to sing.

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